Yes, Ronnie and I had another eventful bike ride last night. Our aspirations of going over 30 miles after work before it turns dark are getting to seem somewhat ridiculous. We once again had a good start, were keeping a good pace (heck, she was way outpacing me, but that gives me something to work for, right?) and were on our way back. This time, the sound that I heard was not a hissing air sound, but a crying goat sound. Do you know how sad a crying goat sounds? Sad enough to make us turn around to see what was going on. This poor goat had its head stuck in a wire fence, and couldn't pull it back through. We looked around for someone with goat experience, and no one could be found. (Where's a good goat herder when you need one?) So, we hopped off our bikes and went to the fence to see what we could do. We both grabbed her horns and tried to twist her poor head back so she could get out of her predicament...all the while laughing at what passers by must be thinking. She was SO stuck, and we weren't making much progress. I tried again to turn her head and suddenly I felt a lot of pain, and there was a lot of blood as I yanked my hand back. I think my finger got pinched between her horns and the fence! So, I stood there with blood rushing out of my finger like Niagra falls, and we wondered what kind of first aid we could do with a spare bicycle tube and some water. Now, all the while I am laughing, though I am slightly concerned with the amount of blood coming out of my finger. It was a lot! Ronnie finally remembered that Dail had given me these cloths that are the size of a half dollar until you add water to them, which causes them to grow...they were in my seat pack. After making the "magic cloth" big enough to cover my gaping wound, we then tried calling Dail to come get us. Of course, he was mowing the lawn, and had no phone nearby. So, she called Kelly to run to our house to tell Dail. Well, she happened to be 15 minutes away from town. So, she called Beaker to do the same thing. She too was 20 minutes outside of town. Seriously, who was around? The blood was drying on my arm, and my finger was throbbing while I held it above my heart (hey - I remembered something from college first aid!). Who knows what all the cars who flew by us (yes, no one even slowed) were thinking. Two girls in bicycle gear, one with a cloth wrapped around her hand and a lot of blood, and a random stuck goat all on the side of the road...what would you think?
Finally Dail checked his phone, saw we had called, called us back, and was on his way to our rescue. He and the boys showed up, loaded up our bikes, and took us home. My finger is now wrappped in 3 bandaids, still throbs a bit, but I think will survive. We decided that my elevated heart rate elevated my blood flow as well...because while the gash doesn't look good, it doesn't look life threatening.
So, the moral of the story - you guessed it, NEVER stop for a goat! (Maybe unless you are St. Francis himself!)
2 comments:
forget you - what happened with the goat?
Well, you really screwed up...because you had all you needed to get the goat free...you see while I was in Vietnam... the Vietnamees would not kill cattle, oxen, or any four hoffed animals...it is some kind of curse...they also could not allow a four hoffed animal to die without the villagers first tying to save the animal...Once while I was on patrol I saw all these villagers dancing and yelling and carring-on...with some sort-of celebratiion. You see they raised goats for their mike and on that very day as I passed they were celebrating a goat rescue...they had found a milk goat with it's head stuck in a out house door half moon cut out. They just had no idea what to do to save their milk goat...rice and no milk...wow...but just then an enemy group of VC soldiers entered the village and as the goal had forced the out-house door open and the goat was hidden behind the door viewed from the front..a VC soldier with the "runs" bolted from his ranks and dove in to the out-house...forcing the door shut...goat and all...and while dropping his pants to crap cut his hand on his buckle...looking up he sees this goat's head as he thought hanging on the closed door....staring him in the face...the goat seeing the blood jurked back...dragging the out-house around the village as he retreated with the army general in tow...finally freeing his head and dumping the general up side down in all his waste...wow...the other soldiers seeing this thought their general was brown to death and flead the village finally with the general trailing with pants at his knees...so now you see why the village was so excited...their goat had saved their village from the VC army...but you see if you she a goat blood and screem "I got ta shit" the goat would have freed itself...and you and Ronnie could be celebrating in your Wichita Falls village..."everything was at hand...you just did'nt know it" and always remember..."someone may get your goat"
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